To Our Mutual Benefit: Five Senses
by Cheshire Pandacat
Summary: A series of five drabbles based on the five senses, set in the TOMB-verse, taking place over the course of about two months after the end of TOMB. 6959, romance, smut.


A/Ns: The main story for To Our Mutual Benefit may be over, but that doesn't mean I don't still want to play within the set-up I've established sometimes. ;D

Disclaimer: KHR not mine.

* * *

To Our Mutual Benefit

Five Senses

* * *

_Sight_

Somehow a lot of Mukuro and Gokudera's dates turned into shopping for clothes.

Growing up in the mafia world as he had, and in an affluent family at that, Gokudera had a keen eye and taste for fashion, and a strong sense of his own personal style. So when given free rein to spend (real money that Mukuro received via some probably-nefarious means Gokudera had no intention of asking about), he was happy to spend hours mixing and matching high-end designers.

Somehow, Mukuro was even more so.

"You are so vain," Gokudera huffed, eyeing the large pile of clothes Mukuro had yet to try on, despite Gokudera having already finished with his own (not insubstantial) selections.

"I fail to see how that's a flaw," Mukuro said airily, examining himself in the dressing room mirror. "Appearance is one of the most basic tools to use for manipulation, and I was blessed with a visage others find appealing. If I can use someone's appreciation of my looks to my advantage, I will. Besides," he went on, stripping off his shirt, planting one hand on his hip, and turning his head to smirk over his shoulder at Gokudera, "I like the way you look at me."

For the first few weeks, that kind of comment had made Gokudera blush.

Now he just rolled his eyes and pulled out a magazine to peruse until Mukuro was done. Which was somehow always within a few minutes of when Gokudera stopped watching.

* * *

_Sound_

Gokudera was sick and tired of being the one who always made embarrassing noises during sex. Oh, it wasn't as if Mukuro was silent – he hummed and purred, rumbled and panted, groaned and moaned and sometimes even gasped, but he had too firm a control over himself to emit the whimpers, mewls, and whines Gokudera often found pulled from his throat against his will.

So Gokudera did his best to break Mukuro's iron-clad self-control. No matter what he tried, though, he couldn't quite seem to manage it, and all his efforts only got him amused (or worse, smug) smiles in return.

Then one night, as Gokudera was fucking Mukuro, Mukuro's arms wrapped around his neck, Gokudera almost absently ghosted his fingertips in a light circle from just under Mukuro's ribcage down to his navel.

Mukuro squeaked.

Mukuro.

_Squeaked._

Gokudera halted mid-thrust, wide eyes taking in Mukuro's half-annoyed, half-panicked expression.

"Mukuro…" he said slowly. "Are you… ticklish?"

Mukuro growled.

Gokudera grinned.

* * *

_Scent_

A lot of the time Gokudera ended up sleeping over at Kokuyo Land on weekends. When that happened, Gokudera often found himself waking up tangled together with Mukuro in some form or another. Often with his nose pressed into Mukuro's shoulder, just breathing in his scent. He'd feel weird about that except Mukuro did the same thing, but much more frequently.

"Why are you so fixated on smelling me?" Gokudera asked after Mukuro had spent an entire night of periodic sex with his nose against Gokudera's skin somewhere or other.

"I like the way you smell," Mukuro replied, looking at him like he'd asked a stupidly obvious and redundant question.

"Oh yeah? And how do I smell?" Gokudera demanded, mouth twisting skeptically.

Mukuro considered him for a moment, then gave Gokudera one of his enigmatic smiles and said, "Alive."

"…You are so fucking creepy sometimes."

"Mmhm. And yet you like me anyway. What does that say about your own sense of taste, I wonder?"

"Shut the fuck up."

* * *

_Taste_

Gokudera dug his fingers into the sheets and tried not to writhe as Mukuro's tongue lapped precum from the tip of his cock. When Mukuro opened his mouth wider to hold the head with his teeth while his tongue continued its ministrations, Gokudera couldn't prevent his hips from convulsively bucking into it, nor a whimper emerging from his throat. Dammit.

"W-w-what," he panted in a moment of curiousity. "What… does that taste like?"

He still couldn't bring himself to try oral sex on Mukuro. He just wasn't comfortable with it, and Mukuro didn't seem to mind, but he couldn't help but be a little curious.

Instead of answering, Mukuro paused, then sucked on Gokudera's cock – Gokudera whimpered again, fucking dammit – before pulling away and shifting forward, seizing Gokudera's lips with his own.

Mixed with the usual sweetness of Mukuro's mouth – damn bastard ate too much chocolate – was something like a salty mucus, just a little bit sour. By itself, Gokudera doubted he would have been thrilled by it, but blended with the taste of Mukuro…

Fingers lifting from the sheets to tangle in Mukuro's hair, Gokudera brought him closer and deepened the kiss.

* * *

_Touch_

One Sunday morning Gokudera woke to Mukuro's fingers trailing up and down his torso – tracing his chest, circling his nipples, following the contours of his ribs, casually brushing his stomach and navel.

After a moment of being startled that Mukuro had woken up first, Gokudera noticed that though Mukuro's face was expressionless, there was a hint of vulnerability in it, too, and a strange light in his eyes that made Gokudera uneasy.

"Mukuro?" Gokudera ventured, frowning.

Mukuro didn't look at him, only continuing to stroke Gokudera's body. When Gokudera's body understandably responded, his hand dipped lower to trail softly up and down the length of Gokudera's erection. Not to be sexual or even to tease, as far as Gokudera could tell. Just to touch.

"Do you know how to tell the difference between real illusions and reality, Hayato?" Mukuro asked, tone sounding absent though Gokudera could tell it was anything but.

Before Gokudera could think of a response, Mukuro went on, "It depends on how skilled the illusionist is, of course. But I've managed to create illusions with barely any tactile difference from the real thing, and with Professor Verde's invention, the only way to tell is to wait for it to disappear. And I couldn't tell any difference between the Six Realms and the real world."

The more Mukuro spoke, the more uneasy Gokudera felt. He finally recognized that look in Mukuro's eyes – it was the look that had been there when Mukuro spoke about his past, almost two months ago now.

The look that reminded Gokudera how questionable the sanity of a boy who'd been cruelly experimented on, who'd slaughtered a lab full of adults at the age of ten, who carried pitch black hatred in his heart to this day, actually was.

A boy who had had six hells engraved so deeply into him that he couldn't tell the difference between them and the physical world. Shit.

"It makes you wonder, doesn't it," Mukuro went on in a monotone that sent shivers up Gokudera's spine, "how any of us can know for sure what is real and what is not."

Gokudera's mouth twisted with annoyance, and he grabbed Mukuro's chin, tilting his face up until they made eye contact. Then Gokudera bent his head and kissed him, slowly, deeply, fiercely.

"How did that feel?" Gokudera asked a little breathlessly when he finally pulled back. Mukuro blinked languidly at him, smile still teetering on the brink of sanity.

"Felt good," he purred, nuzzling at Gokudera's temple.

Gokudera grabbed Mukuro's chin again and forced those heterochromatic eyes to meet his once more. "That's how you really feel about it, right?" Gokudera pressed. "You really feel that you liked the kiss."

"Your point?"

"Your feelings are real," Gokudera said. "No one can make illusory feelings in you. You might be able to lie about them to people, and people might be able to use lies to make you feel things, but the feelings themselves are always real. They really exist within you. And you just have to trust that other peoples' feelings are real, too."

Gokudera met Mukuro's eyes with conviction, trying to wordlessly tell him that he trusted the reality of Mukuro's feelings as much as his own. Trying to reassure him that the world was real, and so were the people who lived in it.

Mukuro regarded him steadily for a moment, then rolled further onto his side to twine his arms around Gokudera's neck, burying his face in silver hair.

Sensing that the mood had passed, Gokudera heaved a tired, exasperated sigh. Taking care of this guy was a real headache sometimes.

"You're dangerous, Hayato," Mukuro murmured sleepily.

Gokudera's brow furrowed. "What? How so?"

Mukuro's arms tightened their hold on him, and he let out a soft, shaky breath that Gokudera wouldn't have heard if it hadn't been right in his ear.

"Sometimes I begin to feel… that I might be lost without you," Mukuro whispered. "Hayato…"

Gokudera stilled, then rolled to face Mukuro, wrapping his arms around him to hold him close as Mukuro snuggled into him and fell back to sleep.

Taking care of Mukuro was a real headache sometimes, but a headache was a small price to pay for those moments of pure trust.

Those moments when Mukuro said his name like it was the most valuable thing in the world, reminding him that he was wanted. He was needed. He was cherished.

Like how Tsuna made him feel.

Sometimes… more cherished than Tsuna made him feel.

Because Mukuro didn't give that level of trust to anyone else.

Even though he knew Mukuro was asleep and couldn't hear him, Gokudera smiled ruefully and muttered,

"I think… I might be starting to feel the same way."

* * *

End A/Ns: Mukuro and Gokudera switch hit. ;)

And for those who want to ask, no, I have no idea how much or how often I'll be writing in this verse. The muse was still hanging around so I indulged it, and I will continue to do so until it moves out, and if it decides to move back in after that I will indulge it again, but at the moment I have no clue, sorry. xD;;;


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